Hold on to Me
by kgweasley
Summary: Ron and Hermione have survived the war. They are exhausted and scarred, but most importantly together.
1. Chapter 1

Upon leaving Dumbledore's office, Harry parted ways with Ron and Hermione, opting to head straight to dormitory for some well deserved rest instead of returning to the Great Hall. They stood in front of the gargoyle and, as Harry walked away, tried to prepare themselves for the scene that awaited them.

Shaking his head, Ron sat down on the steps. "I can't go back there. Not yet."

He squeezed his eyes tight and his entire body tensed, as though trying to block out the pain that was already beginning to seep in.

Without a word, Hermione dropped down beside him, took his clenched hand in hers and brought it to her lips. Ron found himself melting as soft lips brushed across his scarred and filthy hand and his eyes immediately popped open.

Her brown met his blue and this time their lips met softly in surrender. The kiss was very different from their first collision; it was slow and thoughtful, but every bit as passionate. The taste of Hermione was enough to make him consider giving up chocolate. Without interruption, they took their time before breaking apart.

With Ron's hand still in hers, she began to rise.

"We should go back. They'll be waiting for us."

"Hermione," Ron said getting to his feet and giving her had a squeeze. "Don't let go."

* * *

><p>The bells rang out signalling the end of the day and beginning of the next as the couple walked hand in hand into the Great Hall. As the majority of the survivors had returned to their homes, the dead now outnumbered the living. The Weasley men remained in the near empty hall, surrounding the body of Fred.<p>

Percy kneeled on the floor with his head in his hands. Bill and Charlie crouched on either side of their father, speaking to him in hushed tones. George sat with Fred's head in his lap, tears dripping silently down his cheeks and onto his twin's forehead.

"Where's mum?" Ron asked the group.

"Fleur and Ginny have taken her back to the Burrow," his father answered weakly. "She needs to get some rest. Though.. I don't know... how..."

The eldest Weasley brothers squeezed Arthur's shoulders and continued muttering reassurances. Had Arthur the strength to look anyone in the eye right now, he would have seen their broken and doubtful expressions and right through their words.

"I want to- I need to take him home."

They all turned to the source of the cracking voice, George. He stared back at them, his eyes full of tears, yet somehow empty.

Hermione let out a whimper and squeeze Ron's hand tighter.

"Yes. Of course," Mr. Weasley moving towards George and wrapping his arms around him. "Let's all go home."

As they began to make preparations, Ron pulled Bill to the side to speak to him.

"Harry's already gone up to the dormitories, so we'll stay here with him tonight and come to the Burrow together in the morning."

Bill simply nodded, wrapped his arms around his youngest brother and kissed him on the forehead.

Hermione couldn't help but notice that this was the first time Ron didn't resist an act of affection from a family member.

* * *

><p>Ron and Hermione made their way through the demolished corridors in silence and found themselves standing in front of the Fat Lady's portrait before they consciously realized it.<p>

"Oh. I'm afraid we don't-" started Hermione, remembering that they didn't know the password.

"Never mind, dears. Not tonight," she said before slowly swinging open.

Despite its crimson and gold dressings, the Gryffindor common room was unrecognizable. Dark, empty and silent.

Hermione shivered and glanced towards the girls' staircase, but Ron had already taken her hand and begun guiding her to the opposite side of the room.

"You shouldn't be alone tonight," he asserted. "Sleep with me."

Hermione's eyebrows raised and, realizing what he had just said, a very flustered Ron attempted to clarify himself.

"I mean you can come sleep with me. I mean, sleep in my bed. I don't have to be there. Well, I could be there. I mean, I will be there. But Harry will be there, too. In the dormitory! Not my bed..."

Hermione felt the corners of her mouth beginning to turn up. Just when she thought she would never be able to smile again, Ron gave her reason to.

She stood on her toes to kiss one of his very red cheeks and then whispered in his ear, "Let's go to bed."

* * *

><p>Ron continued his acts of chivalry when they reached the room and insisted that Hermione be the first to change for bed.<p>

As he watched the light from under the bathroom door, he very briefly considered imperturbing the curtains around his bed. Although his intention would be to not disturb Harry, he did not want Hermione to come to the wrong conclusion. Especially after his slip of the tongue downstairs.

Ron felt his ears warm at the thought of it. He had most definitely stuffed that up. At least with Hermione being ready first, she could decide on the sleeping arrangements while he was in the bathroom. Ron was nothing if not a brilliant strategist.

Eventually he emerged to find what he had not dared to hope for. Hermione Jean Granger was in his bed. Well, on it technically. And clothed, so it wasn't exactly like his dreams. But there she was.

Sitting down next to her, he drew the section of the curtains she had left open for him and turned to face her.

The water she had splashed her face with and washed away most of the blood and ash, but the scratches and bruises remained. With great care, Ron pushed the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, allowing his hand to linger for longer than necessary.

"Ron," she choked, "I am so tired."

She did not need to elaborate further because he knew. He felt an identical exhaustion. It was more than sleep deprivation. They were tired of pain, chaos, death, uncertainty, and, perhaps most of all, they were tired of not being together.

He pulled her into his arms and, as she began to cry, murmured, "I know, Hermione. But this is it. This is the end. We made it." And with his thoughts drifting to those who did not, particularly to his brother who lay still downstairs, Ron's resolve finally crumbled.

Ron and Hermione held each other until the tears subsided and their breathing matched in rhythm. Hermione rested her head on his chest as he stroked her hair, listening to the steady beat of his heart and reminded herself that they were both indeed alive.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke the next morning with Ron's arms wrapped around her. She had never felt so safe and content. Their fingers remained curled together and Ron's face was buried in her bushy hair. It was the perfect way to wake up. Apart from something jutting into her lower back.<p>

She wiggled a bit trying to reposition herself against him, as she was reluctant to put any space between them, but the poking only became more pronounced.

Refusing to relent, Hermione pressed herself back into him harder this time.

Ron bucked slightly against her and let out a guttural groan into her hair, "Mm... Er-my-nee..."

"Oh my go-" Hermione yelped in sudden realization and bolted upright causing both of them to tumble through the curtains and off opposite sides of the tiny twin bed.

"What the hell is going on?"

Harry's curtains flew open to find a wide-eyed Hermione sitting in the space between the two beds. A stream of curse words echoed from the far side and a sheepish-looking Ron reappeared.

"I- I had a bit of a nightmare," stuttered Hermione. "I'm sorry for waking you up. Are you alright, Ron?"

"Er.. yeah."

"Oh good, I'll just get ready so we can head to the Burrow," she entering the washroom before she had even finished her sentence.

Ron returned himself to the bed with a strategically placed pillow in hand. He gaped at the bathroom door, shook his head and turned to Harry.

"Good sleep?" his best friend questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

"Shut it."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: First, thank you to everyone for reading my first chapter and for your patience for the second! I was extremely flattered by all of the subscriptions I received. And thank you for your lovely reviews. I am a first time fan fiction writer and I really appreciate any feedback I can get!

Also, I'm sorry for anyone who received multiple alerts about publishing. I had some difficulty with the edit/preview function on FF. (Has this changed? Because apparently I don't know how to work it….)

ooooOOOOoooo

The trio apparated into the garden of the Burrow. As they walked together to the front door, sobbing could be heard from the floors above.

All of the curtains were drawn in the kitchen despite it being afternoon. Various kitchen implements and bowls were scattered over the counter and the oversized table was covered in pans and potential ingredients. In amongst the chaos, Ginny stood crying hysterically over the large cauldron she was stirring.

"Gin, put the spoon down," said Ron.

"I c-c-can't!" She bawled. "We're having the wake tonight."

"Oh Ginny," Hermione gasped and moved forward to step in, but Ron put his hand on her shoulder to stop her.

Moving swiftly past the two of them, Harry took the large spoon from Ginny and wrapped his free arm around her. Still sobbing, she buried her face in his shoulder and Harry continued stirring.

Ron had sat down at the table and rested his head in his hands.

"Look," said Hermione taking her wand slowly from her pocket, "Why don't I help you get this under control."

"NO!" shouted Ron and Ginny at the same time.

Hermione jumped in surprise, "Alright. Harry, why don't you take Ginny outside for some fresh air and I'll take over the stew."

Ron glanced up at the pair as Harry guided Ginny to the door. Harry was so focused and full of concern for Ginny that he took no notice of Ron's searching gaze. And that was enough for him.

Hermione interrupted his thoughts, "Do you want to explain why you two just exploded at me?"

"Sorry," Ron said, looking guiltily at her. "Well, every wizarding family has their own rules. The two biggest Weasley ones are: we can't use magic or leave the house until Fred- until the wake is over."

He rose from his chair and moved towards the kitchen counter. "I'm surprised you haven't read about this. Hogwarts doesn't have a copy 'The Big Book of Wizarding Bereavement'?"

Hermione shook her head, "I came across one in the library years ago, but I couldn't so much as get through the first page."

"Yeah, well there's a few other things we need to do," he said changing the subject. "It looks like Ginny's got the food under control. We'll still need to double check the curtains, cover any mirrors and stop the clocks."

"I can do that. But..." Hermione couldn't stop her curiosity from getting the better of her. "why do we have to do all of this?"

"Well," explained Ron as he attempted to clear away some bowls, "mostly because the family has been doing this for a thousand years, but it's not just mad traditions. Everything has its own... kind of lesson."

"Magic... makes things too easy. And this isn't supposed to be easy, so we can't use it. And staying at home is pretty obvious. Even the little things have reasons."

The ringing of a timer interrupted him. Hermione handed him the spoon and salt shaker and went to retrieve what appeared to be pies from the oven.

"We haven't got much time," she said glancing at an ornate hourglass, "and we need really need to change."

"Yeah, that bit's trickier," responded Ginny as she reentered the kitchen still tucked under Harry's arm. "We're not allowed baths or new clothes. I couldn't find anything to lend you, so I owled Fleur."

"Are she and Bill not here?"

"No, they'll arrive at five with everyone else. Pig should be back by now," Ginny said. "Why don't you go up to change and I'll -"

"We'll," Harry interjected, as though he were asserting that he would never leave her side again.

"We'll keep an eye on things down here," Ginny said with a shadow of a smile.

ooooOOOOoooo

Just as Ginny predicted, they found Pig in the Ron's attic room flitting about with the parcel in his tiny talons. Ron plucked it from the air and passed it to Hermione.

She moved toward the door, but Ron remained holding tight to her hand. He wasn't ready to be without her. Luckily, she seemed to share his thoughts and she took out her wand and cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door, blocking out the sounds of grief that echoed below them.

"Buttons," Ron interjected. "We're not allowed to do our own. Reminds us that we can- no, that we have to depend on each other."

He moved across the room to the chest of drawers, pulling his t-shirt over his head before he retrieving a rather wrinkled black dress shirt. He pulled it on and placed himself in front of Hermione, whose nimble fingers made quick work of the buttons.

She then moved on to opening the package from Fleur and removing a simple black dress from it. Ron immediately shut and shielded his eyes with his hands, which earned a chortle from Hermione. She quickly slipped it over her head and stood in front of him.

On her command Ron opened his eyes to find himself facing Hermione's back. There were at least forty tiny buttons trailing from the base of her neck to the small of her back.

"This is going to take forever," he said, sitting down on his bed and pulling Hermione back towards him. In truth, he didn't mind for as he took his time doing up the many buttons, he could take advantage of the excuse to touche her. Fingers brushing against her skin. Hand around her waist moving her closer or adjusting her position.

"Done," he announced planting a gentle kiss on her neck and turning her around to face him.

"You can't wear those jeans," she pointed out frowning.

"Er, right," Ron said turning instantly red. "Well, I can deal with the trousers myself."

"I don't think so," Hermione smiled. "Rules are rules, Ron."

ooooOOOOoooo

Mourners had begun to arrive, forcing the pair to leave their attic sanctuary and make their descent to the ground floor sitting room.

"Right, there's one last thing," Ron said with determination. "The book."

Before Hermione asked, Ron began to explain.

The book had been in the Weasley family for generations. It was older than the Burrow and had years on Aunt Muriel's tiara, but in their house full of worn out hand-me-downs the book was in pristine condition.

During the wake it would be passed to immediate family members or anyone who needed to receive some last words from the deceased. Ron had never actually experienced this ritual before,

They entered the sitting room, crowded with familiar faces and received handshakes and hugs as they made their way to where the Weasley family was gathered.

They were received with tight embraces by Molly. The matriarch, who was so broken by the death of her son, seemed to be gathering strength with the additional presence of her children.

As the last sand ran from the hourglass on the large table, Ron placed the book down and Fred's voice rang out from its open pages.

_I don't think I expected that our little Ronnikins would turn out to be a hero. Sorry about that. I guess that's another thing to prove how damn clever Hermione is: she saw it all along._

_Alright, Georgie? Good thing you were the clever, funny half. Try and get by without my good looks. I don't envy you for getting stuck with this miserable lot. If anyone needs a laugh it'll be this bunch. Don't let me down. It's up to you to finish what we started._

_Perce. I'm glad yours was the last face I saw. And you made a joke! Don't ever stop joking. We missed you, brother._

_Mum and Dad, If I'm being honest, I'm not sorry for most of the daft things I've done, but I am sorry I didn't see Rookwood. I love you._

In silence, glasses of Firewhiskey were passed around the room until not a single hand was empty.

George was the first to speak, "To Fred. My best friend, my brother, my twin."

Every glass joined his in the air as the crowded echoed, "To Fred."

After each glass was drained in unison, the bangs began and everyone rushed outside to be greeted by a fireworks display. Harry and Ginny stood smiling proudly in the middle of the garden. Beside them, Ron wrapped his arm around the weeping Hermione.

Arthur and Molly made their way over to where the couples were standing, eyes gleaming with tears.

"Harry, we have something we need to ask you about the funeral tomorrow" Arthur choked. "We want Fred to be carried by his brothers."

"Of course," Harry nodded. "How can I help?"

"He means all six of his brothers, mate" Ron offered. "You may have been able to avoid the ginger hair, but let's face it, you've been a Weasley since your first Christmas jumper."

Without actually looking him in the eyes, Harry pulled Ron into a tight hug, which in turn set Ginny and Mrs. Weasley off again.

"How are you?" Ron asked, leading Hermione to the side of the garden.

"Just thinking..." she murmured.

"There's a surprise."

"I don't have a Weasley jumper."

"Of course, you don't," he replied matter-of-factly. "You're not a Weasley."

A hurt look spread across Hermione's face, and she turned away from Ron, who quickly realised his mistake.

"Oh shit. I mean, not yet," he said grabbing her hand. "Besides, it won't be Mum who makes you a Weasley. It'll be me."

Standing on her toes, a rather pink-cheeked Hermione kissed Ron softly on the cheek.

By the door of the Burrow, Percy leaned against the wall, no longer having the energy to hold himself up. George walked towards, reached out and took Percy's hand in his.

"It seems to be working for them," he said nodding in the direction of Ron and Hermione.


End file.
